


Felix Felicis

by QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds



Series: What if? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'the' bathroom scene gone different, Angst, Draco coping with the stress that comes when you work for a Dark Lord, Draco's last hope, Felix Felicis, Hogwarts Sixth Year, POV Draco Malfoy, Sarcasm, Voldemort related, mentioning of a lot of not so nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds/pseuds/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds
Summary: What would have happened if Draco would have won the Felix Felicis in sixth year? Well he hasn't - but he is brilliant with potions, so he makes his own liquid luck.But luck - as we all know - has it's own mind what we need...





	Felix Felicis

Six Months. It had taken Draco six months to finally get what Potter had stolen and should have been rightfully his. 

The molten gold potion splashed merrily in the small cauldron. Drops of it leaped like goldfish over the surface and seemed quite contend doing so. It had taken him six months, but now Draco had his very own liquid luck. He was fairly certain that he had done everything right. If he hadn’t, he would be dead even if the potion-gone-wrong wouldn’t kill him.

The burning fear that had settled deep in his gut churned again, reminding him that his life was most likely lost whatever he did. The life of his mother…

Draco took a deep breath, steadying himself. He was a Malfoy. Even more, he wasn’t a disappointment. He wouldn’t fail where everyone else had, because it was no option.

“Is it done?” Myrtles voice drifted into the small booth he was hiding in. Not hiding as it would have been undignified to hide, but discreetly brewing one of the most potent potions in the world. One of the most difficult too, as he thought with satisfaction. No one else would have been able to brew such a potion in his less then desirable conditions.

Standing up, he smoothed out his crumpled clothes, trying very hard to ignore the fiend fire burning through his mind. If this didn’t work, nothing would. If this didn’t work… he should kill himself. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t abandon his mother and leave her to the unforgiving hands of the Dark Lord, but… Death still seemed to be the desirable outcome.

“Uhhhh it’s pretty.” Myrtle who still ignored that she had to watch out for any girl wanting to use this bathroom, looked over his shoulder. Or to be more precise – stood in his shoulder. Draco had stopped months ago to tell her she shouldn’t touch him. She didn’t care either way. And if he would be honest – what he never would be, but if he could be – it wasn’t half bad. The ice cold of her ghost seemed to lessen the fire burning him up ever so slightly. That was something else he could never admit. And he hadn’t. He had stolen the ingredients he hadn’t been able to buy and hadn’t said a word to Severus. And he wouldn’t. His godfather might want to help him and he might have sworn an Unbreakable Oath but that didn’t mean anything. If his Aunt Bella had done that he knew she would happily kill herself to see the wishes of the Dark Lord fulfilled. 

That was neither here nor there. Draco wouldn’t accept help, because if he did… This was his job. His responsibility. And he wouldn’t fail like Lucius. He wouldn’t fail in protecting his mother. He wouldn’t fail… would he? No, not with Felix on his side.

Draco had read up on the effects of the potion. He had read about the blissful certainty that any decision made under the influence was right. That nothing could go wrong. He had also read the warnings. The rules he didn’t care for but still wouldn’t break – but only because there were none he could break in his attempt to finally fix the vanishing cabinet. 

Very carefully, Draco retrieved the pipette from his pocket. He would only allow himself three drops of the molten gold promising him life and safety. Three drops, so that he could take more before he would face the man – if you could call him that – who held his mother’s life in his snake like fingers.

Gingerly, he let the drops fall on his tongue. It tasted sweet – like the chocolates his mother had send him and sour like a green apple, with a hint of Christmas spices. It also tasted a little bit bitter and sweet, as if the potion didn’t want to be used for evil. As if it didn’t want to help a soon-to-be-murderer.

Draco swallowed heavily, ignoring the screaming in his head like he did most days. The constant voices battling in his mind didn’t distract him anymore. Too many voices, too many screams. To many gurgled hopes and fears he could never express. 

He had hoped it would stop with Felix. He waited for the potion to kick in. For the blissful certainty and the peace. It didn’t come. Had he messed it up? Had he messed up his last hope of saving his mother? His last hope of…

Tears stung his eyes, hot and treachery. He was facilitated. Relieve and dread flooded his system and took away his breath for just one second. However brilliant he was at occlumency, the Dark Lord would see this moment as clear as day the next time they met. He would die. And it wouldn’t be pretty. He would take his time, enjoy torturing him, and his mother. 

Stepping away from his failure, Draco faced the agony the mirror showed him etched in his features. Hot tears rolled over his all but transparent skin. He let his head fall down, not being able to look any longer at the miserable coward in the looking glass. A sob wrecked through his body and he grabbed onto the sink so desperately as if it could safe him. But nothing could.

The almost inaudible sound of a closing door let him jump up and he glared at the mirror. Green eyes blinked at him and Draco froze in his movement. He would personally write a passage about Felix Felicis before either going to Azkaban for killing Saint Potter or dying horrendously by the hand of the Dark Lord. Felix didn’t support Death Eaters – or it hated him personally. In any case no one with immoral intentions should take this golden hell-brew. 

They stared at each other for several heartbeats. Potter hadn’t moved a muscle since their eyes had met and Draco knew, if he wanted to overthrow him – kill him – he needed to move first. He didn’t. There was no strength in him left. There was no fight in him left. He wasn’t even sure if he could curse him and mean it. That had to be the cursed Felix Felicis, hamper his instincts – and wishes. Because he hated Potter. Saint Potter. The fucking Saviour of Mudbloods and… 

Another tear spilled over, running down his cheek and dropping down from there. Draco closed his eyes, willing himself to die on the spot. This had to be already part of the torture the Dark Lord had forced on him after failing. There was no other way this could have happened. To be seen crying in a girls bathroom would have been the worst thing possible, but of course Felix had made it even worse.

“Just go, Potter. Tell the world what a fucking disaster I am.” He had tried for a sneer and scathing hatred. What he got was a strangled whimper. That was it, he needed to kill Potter, whether he wanted to or not. But that was the problem wasn’t it? He felt the sob creep up on him. He pressed his lips together trying to suppress the shudder, but it didn’t work of course. Nothing worked for him. Ever.

“Malfoy?” The voice behind him was hesitant, almost afraid. 

Couldn’t he just bugger off? Or die? At least he could be hit with something on the head to lose the last of his few braincells or…

“Malfoy… Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay, Potter?” He hissed. Finally! Something not pitiable. It wasn’t much but he would take anything right now. 

“No… I didn’t mean…” Potter stuttered. Showing off all of his limited intellect. 

“I don’t care what you mean.” It sounded good, until his voice broke on the last word. “Fuck.” Draco decided this was as worse as it could get, but once, just once he would face his… well he didn’t fear Harry Potter. But he would face him none the less. 

He turned, hopefully glaring at the Gryffindor idiot. He hadn’t brush away the tear streaks still lingering on his face.

Potter seemed startled. The bright green eyes darting to his face and avoiding his eyes before glancing at the floor. His normally arrogant posture was uncertain and Draco was very pleased to know that he was even in this situation more in check than Potter.

“Do you need anything?” Draco drawled, trying hard for the impeccable pureblood image, with tears and all.

Potter looked up at him and something flashed over his telling face, setting in a way Draco knew, he had made a decision. 

“I think you need help.”

Taken aback, Draco stared at him. What the hell?

“I have watched you this year, as I’m sure you know.”

Draco did know. It had started on the Hogwarts Express when he had had the pleasure to take at least a part of his rage out on him. Instead of the satisfaction flashing through him as he supposed, there was nothing. 

“Whatever it is Voldemort…” Harry stopped when he saw the full body shudder Draco couldn’t suppress, but continued fiercely after a minute. “Whatever it is he wants from you, we can help you.”

A wet laugh pressed itself through his lips, hurting his throat in the process. “You can’t.” He stopped. “Why would you? You hate me!” Draco’s voice grew louder, the pain still evident in it.

“I don’t hate you.” Potter was too calm. Too collected. Where was the stupid boy raising to his every bait?

“So you stalked me because you like to watch my arse?” Draco hissed and although his life was going down the drain fast – if the Dark Lord would see this, Draco couldn’t even imagine how long it would take for him to die – he didn’t miss the slight taint of red on the caramel skin. 

“I know you are a Death Eater.” 

Everything else was erased from Draco’s brain. Even the voices stopped. Potter knew. 

“I know he has set you up for some task or another and we both know he wants you to fail.”

Draco’s mouth was as dry as one of Binns classes. When had Potter become so observant. He was a passable Quidditch player and not totally hopeless at DADA but aside from that? When had he…

“I’ll guess you are dead when you fail. And so will be your mother.”

A surge of electricity surged down Draco’s spine and he wanted to tell Potter to shut the fuck up. To get lost and hex him into his next miserable existence. But he was right. Of course, Harry Potter would get lucky – again! – even when Draco took the luck potion.

“And you are here to gloat? Please, go on. I can’t wait for you to…”

“Malfoy!” Potter looked at him obviously trying to stay calm. “I want to help you, damn it! I saw him! I know what…” Potter stopped. Breathing hard, his green eyes seemed to pierce right through Draco. 

“I can help you. I will help you, if…”

“If?” Draco asked his voice as impassive as he felt.

“If you want me to.” Potter looked at him with that stupid expression of martyrium most people mistook for heroism. And Draco believed him. It was the Felix Felicis, he knew. Dissolving his brain while he stood here, staring at Potter who had extended his hand to him.

Draco didn’t answer. He looked at Potter standing before him, waiting patiently for his decision. He knew. Not everything. Not what Draco had done. What he was tasked with. But something in those horrible green eyes made him believe. 

He stepped forward and took his hand. 

Whatever happened now couldn’t be worse than what had already happened, could it? He glared at the smile forming on Potter’s face. He knew he glared, because he wasn’t smiling. Because he didn’t feel the burning churn in his gut settle down. And he certainly didn’t feel hopeful.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first fanfic - so I'm very nervous what you will think of this... Normally I write original fantasy (if you wanna check it out, it's posted on this account).
> 
> All my thanks to my lovely beta reader ensignanna. I seriously love you, girl!
> 
> And thank you all for reading!


End file.
